


Clowny with a Chance of Meatballs

by RaiofSunshine



Category: Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Self-Love, Sexual Humor, Solo Date, Treat Yo Self, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29424462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiofSunshine/pseuds/RaiofSunshine
Summary: A robotic jester walks into a restaurant and the maître d' says-
Kudos: 3





	Clowny with a Chance of Meatballs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RavagedRadio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavagedRadio/gifts).



> A sweet friend came to me and asked me to participate in some love crimes for a dear friend, so here is that gift!  
> From: @tlhoh_artblog  
> To: @NightExcision
> 
> May ya Valentine's be as wonderful as the both of ya! ♡♡♡

"Name on the reservation, umm...sir?" The small imp at the podium craned their neck as far back as they could to see the face of the looming figure.

"W-whyyy iIt'S the RrrobOTIC Fizz-AROLLI a-a-aT your hUMMMBLE e-e-estABLISHment!" Cap and bells tinkled and jingled, head like a metronome as it kept in time to a tune nobody else could hear. Suddenly, rubber-stiltskin legs were bent to allow his eyes, with an avarice green glow, to narrow at the imp, corners of mouth pulling high. "BUT yYou c-cAn caLl meEe FIzzZ!"

Shrinking neck into shoulders allowed the imp some much needed space as their personal bubble was threatened by the jester leaning in, limelight metal flashing down at them from the intimidating maw. 

"Y-yes, sir-um-Fizz! Right this way!" Scurrying off a footstool, the maître d' scuttled to the dining area with the guest in tow. 

Bells jangled with each exaggerated step of the robot as he leaned to and fro, spine moving him like a jack-in-the-box. Other tables were occupied with either pairs of demons or roses where no one had sat yet. Sinners stopped in the middle of conversation and bites of food to gawk, eyes spelling out their shock.  _ What? Never seen a robot before? _

Fizz's gaze lingered on a nearby vase as they passed an empty table, before he snapped his head back at the sound of a scraping chair. The tiny employee had pulled his seat out for him, formality wavering in the smile on the creature's face. 

He cackled at the sight, holding his near-nonexistent gut as he shook with the cut-up audio. "A-aaawWWW! Th-th-THANKS! I'lL B-be suuuure t-to leave you a BBBbIIIG tIP~!" The showy wink that accompanied thinly veiled crudeness brought a flush from the shortstack before they squeaked and hurried away.  _ Rude. I was only teasing. _

Plopping himself down into the chair, he was delighted to find a similar vase on his table. In it sat red roses, petals neatly folded on one another. Dragging it closer to him, he bent his head to have a better look at the flowers.  _ Freshly cut? Fancy. _ Wishing he could smell the plant, he settled for reaching over to run a finger along the outside petals.

_ Silk.  _ Scowling, he shoved the ceramic back to its approximate spot before picking up the menu left by the maître d'. Something heavy on the stomach chamber sounded good. Not that he couldn't just plug himself into an outlet, but there was something innately satisfying about converting food into power. Eyes falling on a section designated for pasta, he chortled then proceeded to read over the available dishes.

_ "On top of spaghettiiiii, all covered in cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneeeezed~" _

Sing-songed browsing was interrupted by a serpentine demon, the handsome figure dressed similarly to the imp from up front.

"Hello, Fizzarolli sssir! It'sss an honor to have you dine with usss, I'm a big fan of your show." Glancing over to the vacant chair across from him, the sinner showed a sympathetic tilt of their head. "Are you waiting for your guessst? I can come back with a drink while you're here!"

His momentary excitement to run into an admirer was squashed by the assumption, irritation humming through his system.  _ They didn't mean to be rude. Don't bite their head off. _

"W-w-whaaat? cann'T a RrrrrobOT eat aLONNe on V-ValentINE's Ddaayy?" His cocked head sent signals that a face absent of eyebrows couldn't. The body language was enough to have the waiter tripping over themselves to backpedal from the misstep.

"Oh no no, sssir! Pardon my wordsss, there isssn't anything wrong with that at all! Umm, what I can get you then? We have a houssse ssspecial of-"

"SpaGHEt-t-ti and MeeATbaaaalls w-will d-d-dO!"

Nodding in a rush, the reptile slithered in the apparent direction of the kitchen, scaled face bright with shame. Cupping hands around his mouth, he called out to the retreating figure before he could forget. "A-aand eXTRa meeeatb-bALLS, if yOU d-d-dooonn't mInd!"

Relaxing into his chair, the robotic fool fiddled his fingers to the beat of the tune stuck in his memory. Spaghetti would make his day all the better and, as long as the waiter heard him, he would even get plenty of those meaty spheres he loved so much.

With a scan of the room, he took in the surprisingly small crowd dining in the restaurant.  _ Huh. Not a lot of people out celebrating Valentine's Day. _ Well, that was fine enough. He dealt with crowds plenty at work. No need to be surrounded by people on his off time as well. 

A snicker slipped out when he caught a glimpse of two demons bickering on the other side of the dining area. A splash of liquid from a once-full glass was followed by the perpetrators exit, drenched sinner sitting in shock at the table.  _ Poor sap. Glad I'm not them at least. Wonder what the hubbub was about? _

As if watching a live performance of a soap opera, the drink thrower was back only a few minutes later in tears. Citrus shining eyes rolled in their socket at the drama. 

No way would the soaked patron buy that. 

Or they would. 

As well as engage in a game of tonsil hockey right there at the table.

Getting up, he changed to the seat on the other side with a loud huff, just so he didn't have to witness the unappetising sight.  _ What a couple of morons. Who needs that when you can have spaghetti. _

As if summoned by his inner grumbling, the waiter returned with a carefully balanced plate. The pasta was loaded with meatballs, the crowded topping threatening to wobble off and onto the floor. Salivary reserves activated in reply, jaw dropping to let tongue roll out cartoonishly at the appearance of the guest of honor at his table. "MmmMAma m-mia! ThoooSE are s-s-sommmme nICE mmmMeatbALLs!" 

Hissing out a timid laugh, the sinner set down the plate in front of him then brought their tail forward. Held in the tip's coiled grip was a bottle, the hint of label leading him to think it was wine.

"Complimentary." After uncorking the bottle, and pouring a glass, the serpent gave a polite curtsy. "If you need anything elssse, just let me know, Fizzarolli sssir!" With that, his waiter left him alone with the most delicious looking thing in the building.

With all the elegance of a ribbon dancer, he set about twirling the strands of noodles. Round and round, like carbohydrate streamers, he spun until his fork could hold no more. 

Lifting the heavy utensil with the proudest gleam, he couldn't hold back the satisfied guffaw that came as he opened wide. Plopping the glutenous ball inside, he chewed the pasta, humming through his mouthful as he worked it, before swallowing. Repeating this, he made quick work of the starchy component, until all that remained on the plate were the meatballs. These were the icing on top of his saucey cake.

Each was prodded with tines, then led to their new home as sharp teeth bit into the orbs. He was already fairly full from the spaghetti, but the way the meat settled in his stomach was so pleasant. Following the last one's deposit beside its fallen kin, a glance at his full glass was all the persuasion he needed, the darkened red liquid splashing into the already sated chamber.

"NnoW th-ThaT's wWwhaT I caLll a gOOd-d sTufFinG!" Leaning back in his chair, he took a moment to just relax. It was so rare that he got a chance to just enjoy himself and himself alone. Humming, he tapped the table lightly as he felt his meal start to process. With how dense it was, he was sure to have an abundance of energy later. 

He must have appeared bored at the least, because he only got a couple minutes of solitude before the waiter was at the table, check in claw. "Will you be wanting any dessert, sssir?"

There was a moment where he considered it, but that was brushed over, his head shaking in softened refusal. "NnNo th-ThaNnks!" Taking the paper from the slithering demon, his mind fully paused on the out-of-place print it read. "WwhaT-t's thIs nN-now?"

Nothing further was needed, the snake's facial scales taking on a pink in hue as they looked down. "It'sss an apology for my rudenessss earlier. Couplesss get a third off when they dine here on Valentine'sss Day."

_ A discount for not being single? That's kind of bullshit.  _ And yet, his main frame was suddenly flooded with possibilities. Discounted sweets, cheaper activities, all for the taking. If there was anything he learned from Mammon, it was that deals like these were meant to be exploited.

Smile spreading wider, his exhilaration shone like a beacon and twinkled with an undercurrent of opportunistic greed. "Th-tHat'sS sSo nIce of y-YouU-" Squinting, he scanned the front of the sinner for any sort of name tag, only to come up empty.

Sensing his disappointment, the reptilian stood up straighter as they brought their arms rigid against their side. "Percccival! Um, but you can call me Percccy!" The nervous tension in them was palpable, amusing as well.

"NnO n-NeeDd to b-B-be sSo sTifF!" Keeping his grin on the server, he reached into his pants to pull out a small wad of cash bound up with an elastic band. 

He didn't need to look down to count out the money, however it was necessary when he took out some extras. Breaking their eye contact, he poked the table with his index finger, producing an audible _click_ as a pen came out the tip.

A flourish and dot later, and his autograph was scrawled visibly on the green bill. Mammon would have his limbs if he knew his paper countenance had been tainted, but he was sure the waiter could keep this between them as he held them out. "YyYouR t-Ttip!"

Percy gawked at the gesture a few beats longer than expected, but when they took the offered tip, the robot noticed a wet gleam in their eyes. "Th-Thank you ssso much, sssir! It wasss a pleasssure to meet and ssserve you!"

_ Oh fuck, please don't cry. _ He didn't know quite how to handle tears, especially since he wasn't able to make his own. So taking that as his cue to exit, he bounded out of his seat and, with an awkward pat on the waiter's head, made haste for the front door. "A-anD th-THat's oUuR sH-sShow, fFolLks!"

Bursting through the double doors, his view of the street was blocked immediately by a deep, almost wine, pink limousine. Cocking his head briefly, he continued on his way, giving his reflection a flattering kiss as he passed one of the many windows.  _ Looking good. _

Eyeing the array of shops up ahead, he pondered just how many Valentine's specials he could rake in before he had to be back at the park.  _ Damn, it's good to be me! _


End file.
